i'm more than just a piece in their games
by barbieroberts
Summary: Frankie Stein is only sixteen days old when she is reaped, and no-one thinks she can make it, not even her own parents. — Or: the Hunger Games AU that no one asked for.
1. the reaping

Frankie Stein is only sixteen days old when she is reaped, and no-one thinks she can make it, not even her own parents.

"This is all my fault, I never should've never tried to -" Father's words are cut off by his sobs.

The verdict is simple: Frankie is too young and their world is so cruel, and they can only hope her death is quick.

But Frankie wants to live.

* * *

The Tributes that year are indeed much older than her, and Frankie's mentor, Sparky, is no help whatsoever.

At the Opening Ceremonies, she goes un-noticed, with her dress covered in lightning bolts, traditional and boring for District Five, without even the humiliating novelty of being naked like the tributes from Twelve.

During training, she has almost no luck with heavier weapons since she has almost no muscle. She's fast, but so are most of the other tributes.

In her private session, she scores a three. Since no-one wants to risk allying with a weakling, she's completely on her own. She supposes it's better this way, alliances in these games only ever lead to betrayal.

But the arena this year is a large metal box, entirely Normie-made, with hardly any light, no warmth, and limited oxygen.  
This, however, works out extremely well for Frankie, as she hides in the shadows and rips out her stitches, leaving green stumps at the ends of her wrists.

Out in the darkness, two lone green hands head out towards any tributes they can find and wrap long fingers around the tribute's throats, choking them to death.

She certainly isn't the first monster to think of using her abilities to her advantage, since there has never been any rules against it. In fact, the normies think it makes the games all the more exciting.

After eliminating a total of nineteen of the twenty-four tributes, Frankie accidentally stumbles upon what is mostly likely the only water source the arena appears to have - a large pool of saltwater - and decides to take a swim. In seconds, she is electrocuting four tributes at once, allowing for a few agonising screams, but never the chance to see their killer.

As the trumpets sound and a bodiless voice announces her victory, her hands crawl back to her, stained with blood.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I am pleased to present this year's victor, Frankie Stein!"

* * *

"Your games were over in three days," Sparky tells her. "That's almost a new record."

He should be happy, she thinks, but he can't even look her in the eyes.

"Do you think they wanted me to do it?" She asks.

"Perhaps." He says. "At least the ones you strangled died quickly."

"You told me nothing. What else was I supposed to do?" she snaps, glaring at him.

"I don't know." He huffs.

"You should. You know what the worst part was? When I did it - when I killed them - I felt nothing. I just wanted to stay alive, I just wanted to go home." Frankie gasps. "I didn't even know their names!"

"You will soon, after the ceremony." Sparky says. "and what you did to them - what you did to win - will haunt you forever."

As soon as the door shuts behind him, she brings her knees to her chest and sobs.

She wonders if this is what remorse feels like.

* * *

Frankie stares in the mirror.

The Normies have surgically altered her body, washed the blood from her hands, turned her skin a lighter tone of green - they would never make her look too human, otherwise the normies might become too sympathetic - given her new transparent stitches, even her hair once messy and knotted, has been cut short, and falls gracefully to her shoulders, no kinks at all.

She can barely recognise herself.

Her stylist, Clawdeen, has certainly upped her game - there are no lightning bolts this time. Instead, she wears a white corset with a short blue skirt that barely goes past her thighs. Her gold earrings are large and heavy - the Normies pierced her ears, too. Clearly, none of her was safe while under their knife.

Clawdeen looks nothing like a normie, and when Frankie dares to ask about it, Clawdeen gives her an honest answer.

"Smart girl. I'm actually a Victor from District Seven. The stylist for your District had to...leave unexpectedly."

Frankie is no fool. She knows the stylist was executed, though she doesn't care to know why. The Normies will kill anyone they suspect of being a 'Monster Sympathiser' without hesitation.

"Do you hate me then? For what i did to them?" Frankie stares at her shoes.

"No." Clawdeen acknowledges. "You were just trying to survive, just like the rest of us."

Frankie sighs, nervously running a hand through her permanently straightened hair. "How long until i have to go on?"

"Five minutes." Clawdeen confirms.

Pure terror registers in Frankie's eyes.

"You're gonna be fine." Clawdeen soothes. "Just remember: don't let them see your scared, don't let them think your weak. You can always throw up when you're alone, if you have to." She advices.

"That's the most helpful advice I've had since I got here." Frankie comments bitterly.

"Sparky's useful, once you get to know him. And now you will."

"Great." Frankie snaps. "Then I can go home?"

"Yes," Clawdeen assures. "At least for a few weeks. Then it's on to your Victory Tour."

They announce her name, and the audience begins cheering.

"It's time. Good luck, Ghoul."

Normies outlawed the use of "Monster Slang" long ago, Clawdeen could get in huge trouble for that.

But Frankie smiles at her nonetheless. "Thanks, Ghoulfriend."

Clawdeen grins back.

* * *

Abbey really doesn't want to watch the interviews, but the moment she sees the new victor's blue and green eyes, she can't look away.

It's not that Frankie Stein isn't very pretty, because she is, and it's not like Abbey has never seen a very pretty woman before, because she has, but -

Frankie Stein is gripping the edges of the chair so tightly her knuckles are white, her eyes are wide with horror. She looks anything but okay, and Abbey wants nothing more than to hold her hand and tell her not to be afraid, that she can do this.  
Abbey's own ceremony had barely lasted an hour.

That year, she had turned the arena to ice in a matter of seconds, freezing the all of other tributes to death before they could so much as jump off their plates. With so little to show, her games had been declared both boring and tasteless, and the head Gamemaker of that year was dead within a week.

But this year, it seems they have much more material to show, and Frankie Stein looks like she wants the Earth to swallow her up.

Abbey can't blame her.

The interview portion of the ceremony lasts for about half an hour. There isn't much to ask aside from variations on "How are you recovering after you murdered all those children?"

Frankie responds with the usual lie. "I'm doing fine, thanks to all of you."

Abbey knows better.

* * *

Frankie feels sick.

Her head hangs over the toilet, tears streaming down her face.

Someone knocks on her door.

"Frankie Stein? You here?"

She doesn't sound like a Normie, so that's probably a good sign, right?

"Yeah?" Frankie chokes out. "What-"

"I come in?" She breaks in.

"Uh, okay, sure." Frankie calls. She's too exhausted to argue.

The door slides open with a clang, and the woman steps inside.

Frankie turns her head to see a beautiful woman standing in the bathroom door.

"My name Abbey." Abbey says. "You need help, yes?"

"Yes." Frankie croaks out.

Abbey sits down beside her, puts a hand on Frankie's shoulder, and hands her a tissue. "I here now, it is okay."

Frankie takes it, grateful. "Thanks."

"I saw ceremony. Think you need a friend, am wrong?" Abbey sounds nervous.

Frankie shakes her head, biting her lip.

"It ok to cry, Frankie. Do not worry." Abbey says gently.

Frankie does cry then, and grabs Abbey's hand.

Abbey doesn't pull away.

(It's been a long time since she's felt this kind of warmth.)

* * *

Abbey is in the training centre, trying desperately not to look too incompetent, when a boy with flames for hair steps in front of her.

"Hey, two! Carry your axe for you, baby?" He is obnoxious and Abbey dislikes him immediately.

"My name not is baby, it is Abbey." She says, ripping the axe out of his hands, freezing him solid in the process.

His frozen face is plastered on the newspaper that evening – along with the headline _Three Gives Twelve The Cold Shoulder!_ – and she is not allowed back in the Training Centre until he gets back to normal. Well, as normal as he can get, being a monster.

Now, Abbey knows that she hates him.

* * *

It's true that Heath is an idiot, but he makes her laugh, and with the games fast approaching, there aren't many opportunities to.

So, maybe she kind of appreciates him. A little bit.

* * *

The Interviewer leaves such little impression on her that Abbey can't even remember his name, much less keep focus on him in his ridiculous sparkling blue suit.

"So Abbey, I won't lie, this is my first interview with...someone like you. So, I have to ask - now don't take offence," the interviewer takes a deep breath. "When is a monster not a monster?"

"When it don't kill you." Abbey spits out, because they're already sending her to her death, so why should she care what they think of her?

The audience laughs.

Abbey briefly considers glaring at them, but decides it's not worth using up what little time she has left in this world to pay attention to those who will see her death as entertainment.

"Oh look!" The Interviewer shouts, dramatically tapping at his watch. "It seems we've run out of time. Abbey Bominable, Tribute from District Two, will be appearing on your screens in less than two days, so remember to place your bets as soon as possible!"

His smile is far too wide and far too fake.

Abbey smirks. At least one person will remember her now.

* * *

Heath finds her after.

"What you want, flame boy?" She shouts.

"I just wanted to say..." He isn't looking at her. Is he nervous? "That I think it was really brave, what you did tonight."

Abbey's smile is small, but it is real. "Thank you, Heath."

He steps closer to her, and stares at her.

"What? I got something on my face?"

"I just...you're the only friend I've got now, okay? And there's not a lot of time left now for that – and I'm scared that I'm never gonna see you again and you're like the only Ghoul I know who can stand to be around me for more than thirty seconds and - and - and I don't wanna loose you." Heath bites his lip, tears welling up in his eyes.

Abbey wants to comfort him, wants to say something re-assuring, that Heath will never loose her, but she is not a liar. He will loose her and she will loose him and whatever it is they have will not survive the games.

She sighs, as if to say 'I'm sorry', and gets up to leave.

"Abbey, wait!" he calls.

She turns around.

"You're a career, you can win this. We both know I haven't got no chance." He tells her, and Abbey really wants to protest, but she can't seem to find the words.

"But, when the time comes, can you make it quick?" He asks quietly.

She nods.

"Good." Heath breathes. "and tell my family I love them, will you? On your Victory Tour?"

"I will." She vows.

* * *

On her Victory Tour, she gives Heath's younger sister a snow man that will never melt, and tries to forget.

* * *

Now, Abbey is sitting on the cold bathroom floor with a sobbing green-skinned girl, their hands linked together.

Her name is Frankie, and Abbey thinks she might have loved her from the second she saw her.

But love is not a luxury she can afford.

Not in this lifetime.

* * *

Frankie sits up. "I'm sorry, you - you - must be so tired."

"Not really-" Abbey starts, but her words are cut off by a yawn.

"See, I was right." Frankie sighs. "You can go if you want."

Abbey gets up, but she finds the door is locked.

"It makes sense." Frankie whispers. "Can't have their new victor running away now, can they?"

Frankie forces herself up. "Abbey, I'm sorry I got you caught up in all-"

"It fine." Abbey says, her eyes flickering to frankie's bed. "Give me pillow and I sleep on floor."

"No!" Frankie protests. "After what you just put up with, you deserve the bed."

"But you are victor. you deserve it!" Abbey replies.

"We could... share it, I suppose." Frankie reasons. "There's enough space."

"Alright." Abbey concedes. "but I get up earlier, before Prep Team come in. I say I congratulating you."

"Okay." Frankie says, and climbs into bed.

"You not change?" Abbey is confused.

"Nope." Frankie replies.

Abbey doesn't move.

"Are you gonna get in, or what?" Frankie asks.

Abbey does, and Frankie switches off the light.

* * *

Abbey keeps her word, and is gone when Frankie wakes up.

Frankie hoped she would stay.

* * *

Frankie spends the weeks before the victory tour reading ever issue of Monster Beat she owns – which is all of them.

She also has a telephone now, which is weird, because almost no-one in her district owns one.

But Abbey does.

And hearing Abbey's voice makes Frankie's bolts spark, brings a just little bit of happiness to her dreary day, and Frankie is so glad to have at least one friend in this awful world.

Okay, so that is not entirely accurate – she also has Clawdeen as well, but Clawdeen doesn't call much.

Clawdeen is too busy working on Frankie's outfits for the Victory Tour, and it's going slower than planned, because of an explosion in three of the textile factories in her District.

* * *

"Hey! 'Sup! Monster...Hi. I'm Frankie, Frankie Stein."

The Normie President glances down at her and Frankie knows she is doomed.

* * *

The second Cleo sees the president look down at Frankie Stein, sees the new Victor's eyes well up with tears, her mind is made up.

She walks over to Frankie Stein, head held high, and takes her arm.

"Hello, I'm Cleo de Nile, Victor of District One. Yes, I know you are blessed to be in my presence, however, no bowing is necessary. Now, I simply must introduce you to the other Victors!" Cleo commands, and half-drags the girl to the other end of the room, and to the monsters-only bathroom, and can only hope that her arm doesn't rip off.

It's only when the metal door slides shut that Cleo lets Frankie go.

"What in the name of Ra do you think you're doing?!" Cleo hisses.

"I don't know!" Frankie snaps back. "I just thought-"

" _They_ don't give a damn if we can think or not!" Cleo knows better than to use the word 'Normie' here. These halls have eyes and Cleo knows what can happen if they find you doing something wrong. "They just want a good show! We are mere entertainment to them, and if we don't live up to their standards, then we get...cancelled."

Frankie's heard of that happening before. The Normies always claim it's the flu, or old age, but -

Frankie looks in the mirror, seeing tears run down her face. Cleo tares a part of a bandage off to wipe them.

Cleo sighs. "Now, you're going to put on your best smile, and you're going to go out there are pretend to have fun – this party is all for you, after all."

"I know," Frankie says. "Do – do you know where Abbey is?"

"Of course," Cleo grins. "and I for one, know that she'll be very happy to see you."

It's obvious to Cleo that Frankie isn't exactly sure what she means, but if she gets to see Abbey, maybe the poor ghoul can get through this night without bursting into tears for a second time.

* * *

Cleo is watching Abbey and Frankie dancing.

They look happy, sure, but Cleo remembers Frankie's lone hands choking children to death, Abbey freezing their hearts with a flick of her wrist.

They can't let this go on. She can't watch any more of her people loose to the Normies.

She rests her head on Deuce's shoulder, and whispers "It's time."

Deuce is silent, he nods.

Cleo holds him close and never wants to let him go.

* * *

Vampires and werewolves don't get along. They never have, and they never will.

Of course, that's why the Normies stuck the two of them in the same district.

* * *

Werewolves and vampires have hunted one-another for centuries, ever since the Normies took over.

The vampires make up the rich of their district, they have been around long enough that they have mansions, and money, and all the food they don't need.

And what do the werewolves get? Nothing.

So, on every full moon, the werewolves take revenge.

* * *

Clawdeen knows the taste of blood in her mouth.

She was five the first time her family took her on a hunt.

"But Dad, isn't she a bit young for this?" Clawd asks, nervously.

"It is better she learns young." Her father assures him. "Then she'll understand why we have to do it."

Her mother sighs, and light of the full moon glistens through their open window. "Time to go."

"Clawdeen, you're about to see something amazing." Father puts a comforting hand on Clawdeen's shoulder, and howls.

* * *

Clawdeen is seven years old when she makes her first kill.

The vampire's name is Mary, or Gory, or something and the purple streaks in her hair become matted with blood.

Her family are proud, and Clawdeen smiles with the vampire's blood still staining her sharp teeth.

* * *

Clawdeen is sixteen when she meets Draculaura.

Draculaura is a vampire, but she doesn't drink blood because she's a vegetarian or something.

Clawdeen can almost see her spine through her shirt, and wonders how she's stayed alive so long.

Clawdeen supposes she would rather not know.

* * *

Some small part of Clawdeen trusts Draculaura – Clawdeen fell asleep beside her one night from sheer exhaustion one night and Draculaura didn't slit Clawdeen's throat, and oh, how easy it would've been - and the air is still stinging in her lungs, her heart still trudging along.

(And maybe it would have been better if she had because Clawdeen doesn't know if she can stomach murdering her and -)

Draculaura is right there and she is smiling and – oh my ghoul, she makes Clawdeen so weak and Clawdeen really wants to hate her but she can't – and that stupid pink heart on her cheek is glowing in the sun.

Wait -

Suddenly, the sun is making it's want over the horizon and Draculaura is screaming and screaming and screaming and Clawdeen knows she's supposed to care nothing for vampires, knows that she's supposed to want to let this happen, want to see her turn to ash right before her eyes, so there's one less monster who's blood Clawdeen doesn't have to spill, who's throat she doesn't have to tear out but -

Clawdeen picks her up in her arms and runs.

The sun won't hurt her, but Clawdeen just hopes that her shadow will somehow protect her.

Draculaura gasps, grabbing at Clawdeen's hand. "Where are we going?"

Clawdeen doesn't stop. "Anywhere but here."

* * *

Clawd is in love with Draculaura and everything is wrong.

Draculaura is a vampire, and Clawd is a werewolf, and this can't happen because then Clawd will be executed for betraying his pack and Clawdeen can't loose him.

Clawdeen is pretty sure their sister Clawdia knows too. She wants to a writer, but she can't because there are no monster authors anymore.

Clawdeen thinks she'd call this a plot twist, or something.

But their lives aren't some made up story, and Clawdeen can't sleep for days.

* * *

Honestly, Clawdeen isn't shocked when she's chosen for The Games.

She has a big family, and a big family needs a lot of food. Entering their names in multiple times was the only way to get that food.

Draculaura is screaming and sobbing Clawd is crying and her parents are staring at their shoes.

Clawdeen holds her tears back though. She won't allow herself to be seen as weak.

A boy's name is drawn. It's some blond vampire who looks as if he can hardly wait to kill her.

* * *

Somehow, Clawdeen survives, and the blond vampire's severed head rolls away as a bodiless voice announces her victory.

* * *

The second she climbs off the train, she hears Draculaura's cry of joy.

Draculaura sprints up to her and hugs her tight. She whispers "I'm so happy you're home."

"Me too, Lala." Clawdeen whispers back.

Draculaura laughs softly. "Lala?"

"It's your pack name. I came up with it while I was gone." Clawdeen says.

"I love it." Draculaura grins. "I missed you so much, Clawdeen."

"I missed you too." Clawdeen says, and pulls back, only now just realising they might have just had the longest hug ever to be broadcast on television.

* * *

A few years pass, and Clawdeen never returns to the Normie capitol. District 8 have many more victors to choose from to be mentors.

Until District Five's stylist is executed for crimes against the Normies, that is.

* * *

"Why me?" She asks, hesitantly.

The Normie president looks up at her coldly. "The talent you took up was fashion, and District Five needs a fashion designer."

"What if I don't want to go back?"

"If you don't do it, then that pretty pink vampire of yours will need to watch her back. There are a lot of freak fires this time of year, you know."

Clawdeen lets out a low growl, and curls her claws into her palms. "Fine, I'll do it."

"Excellent."

* * *

Frankie Stein lives, and Clawdeen is put to work making her Victory Tour outfit.

She's almost finished when the factory beside her house explodes.

* * *

Her house is burned down to the ground in matter of minutes, and she can hardly see through her tears.

Now, her entire family are forced to re-locate to the Victor's Village.

* * *

Their new house has a limitless supply of hot running water, and indoor heating, and fourteen bedroom and Clawdeen thinks that might be the only good things about the house.

She can't escape the feeling she's being watched and she hates it.

Clawd is all too happy with their new arrangement, though, and Clawdeen can understand why.

Now, he can have some chance at happiness.

* * *

"Do you love her?" Clawdeen asks.

"I don't know," Clawd replies. "Are you still in love with her?"

"Yes." Clawdeen says without meaning to. She can't look him in the eyes.

Clawd smiles sadly. "Then, I'll back off. There are plenty of nice ghouls in this district."

"But there's only one Draculaura." Clawdeen finishes. "Clawd, thank you."

"Hey, what are big brothers for?" Clawd says ruffling her hair.

* * *

Clawdeen kisses Draculaura the night before the Victory Tour, and feels something like hope burning inside her.

* * *

Breaking into the Head Gamemaker's office is almost too easy.

Cleo grips the amulet hanging at her throat. Father told her it will check for hidden lasers and any other trap the humans might have set for them.

"If you feel it burning, run." Father had warned her, matter of fact and serious, as always.

Though he doesn't show it, Cleo knows that her Father is proud of her. She revels in that fact.

She feels nothing and so she grips Deuce's hand and enters the room.

"Now, if I were a sadistic human with such a strong hatred for monsters that my job was entirely centred on creating entertaining ways of killing them, where would I hide my plans?" Cleo whispers.

"How do we know he even wrote them down?" Deuce asks.

There's a small box in the middle of the desk. It is bright and flashy, the artificial light of the desk lamp illuminating it.

Well, that's practically a sign from the gods themselves that this box is important.

Cleo takes a deep breath and opens the box. She finds only a piece of paper.

"Of course he wrote his plans down," Cleo rolls her eyes. "He's a normie. They like to keep track of their victories."

Cleo reads the first line, and gasps.

"What's wrong?" Deuce is vigilant, one hand on his sunglasses, his other arm shielding her.

"This is it – the plan for next year's Quarter Quell." Cleo's voice shakes.

Deuce's eyes widen. "What does it say?"

Cleo is barely three lines in before the door opens.

"What are you freaks –"

Deuce lifts his sunglasses. Blinding emerald light engulfs the room.

Cleo blinks.

The Head Gamemaker is standing before them, his feet imprisoned in stone.

Deuce slams the door shut.

"Unless you wanna spend the rest of your days as a paperweight, you are gonna do exactly as we say." Deuce hisses.  
The Head Gamemaker's eyes shift from side to side. Cleo knows he has accepted.

"Good," Deuce nods.

Cleo reads the rest of the paper, she clenches her fists to keep herself from tearing the paper to shreds.

She shoves the paper in the Head Gamemaker's face. "This is nothing more than a list of names! Tell us what you're planning for the Quarter Quell!"

The Head Gamemaker laughs. "You can kill me if you want. My life means nothing in the grand scheme of things. The President, however, will make you pay for this. He has a particular dislike for monsters who don't know their place."

"Monsters will live far longer than you humans ever could. There are many who can't even die, or are already dead. We vastly outnumber you." Cleo states proudly.

"Freaks who have lived long enough have seen just how ruthless we are to those who oppose us." The Head Gamemaker brags. "They would never stand against us."

Cleo sighs. "Perhaps we have never been given a proper opportunity."

"You really think rest of the freaks will willingly follow the pair of you? A daughter of the Mummy with all the beauty and no brains, and the son of Medusa who says dude at the end of every word?!" The Head Gamemaker guffaws.

His stone prison has been building upwards and is slowly creeping up his neck.

"Tell us what you're planning and this will end." Deuce interjects.

"Oh, I can't do that. It would ruin all the fun!" The Head Gamemaker jeers.

With that, the Head Gamemaker's victorious smirk is forever encased in stone.

Deuce is crying. "I didn't want to – I didn't think he'd –"

Cleo hugs him. "I know, I know."

Deuce hasn't harmed a soul since his games fifty years ago. Until now.

"What do we do now?" His voice is weak and vulnerable, and she leans into him.

"We wait," She says. "They'll find a new Head Gamemaker soon enough."

"They will know it was us, and they'll find us and then –" Deuce begins.

"No, they will wait until we think we are safe to strike." Cleo counters. "When that happens, we'll fight until the bitter end."

"But –"

"Look at me." Cleo commands.

Deuce stares at her behind those sunglasses, and Cleo wishes they could live in this moment forever, in a world where it was just the two of them without death or The Games or murderous mortals.

"We belong together. We are Cleo and Deuce, and nothing changes that." Cleo thinks that this might be the only promise she will ever be able to keep.

* * *

Cleo de Nile becomes a Victor at the age of 1600.

"She is extremely young to have killed so many," An ally of Ramses remarks with a twinge of empathy.

Ramses invited all of the allies he still retains to watch Cleo receive her crown. It is not her rightful crown, as she is not his firstborn heir nor can he possess a dynasty while the mortals still cling to power. However, it is close enough that he deems it worthy of a celebration.

"I must say, Ramses, I am impressed." Another adds, cheerfully, pouring himself anther cup of wine. "Your wife would be very proud, too."

"My wife watches over us, always. My daughter is young," Ramses replies. "But she is strong. She learned from the best."

* * *

Cleo comes home and nothing is like it used to be, especially her.

She jumps at the smallest of sounds, she can't sleep anymore - not that she needs it - and she begins to slowly despise all the attention she's getting.

All of the attention she's getting because she killed twenty-three monsters.

Sometimes - all the time - she contemplates smashing their cameras and microphones with her bare hands and telling them exactly how she feels.

She imagines how the camera would sound as it cracked - would it sound like a bone being crushed? she wonders.

(She knows what that sounds like. The boy's screams of agony still haunt her dreams.)

She is so scared and worries that she will soon become afraid of her own shadow.

Then, Nefera decides to throw her a party.

* * *

"Hey little sister!" Nefera cries happily. "I loved watching you! I must admit that yours was one of the best games I've seen in years!" Nefera is so proud of Cleo's murders and Cleo wants to throw up.

It's not Nefera's fault, Cleo knows. Nefera doesn't really understand, because Nefera lost her heart the day they took Toralei.  
Cleo thinks that, for her sister, killing those kids would be like swatting away at a particularly annoying swarm of flies.

"Why would you do this?!" Cleo exclaims.

Nefera's smile drops from her face. "What? I'm trying to be nice to you!"

It's at that moment that Amanita Nightshade waltzes into the room. "You all should be celebrating me!" She declares.  
Cleo flees the scene.

The only thought that races through her mind is _No. No. No. No. I cannot deal with this right now._

Cleo doesn't even know where the hell she's running to because she's hardly ever been outside her home. Father wouldn't allow it, not when there was so much more training to be perfected.

She doesn't stop until she feels as though she's been running for hours, for days.

She takes rest in a cave. It's cold, damp and dark but she is a Victor, she can handle it.

Then, she hears a voice.

"Who are you? And you did you find me?" A boy asks, one hand on his cracked sunglasses, another on a torch of flame.

Cleo sighs. "Who am I? Surely you must have seen this year's games! I'm the new Victor, though it feels like I'm their new toy."

"Well, we don't get much TV reception up here." The boy replies, shortly. "Normie's ain't treating you so hot? I know the feeling."

"When have the mortals ever treated any monster so hot?" Cleo asks, not even bothering to correct him on his barely passable terms of phrase.

Honestly, she doesn't know why she is wasting her time with him and yet she doesn't move. She blames her fatigue.

The boy lowers his hand from his sunglasses, clearly not registering her for the threat she is.

It's kind of nice, Cleo thinks, to not be seen as a weapon.

"I'm Deuce. Mind if I sit here?" The boy - Deuce - asks.

"Why are you asking me? It's your cave!" Cleo reminds him, though with not nearly the amount of hostility Deuce would have expected.

Cleo thinks he might be blushing. "Oh, uh, yeah. I mean, uh, you can stay – I mean, only if you want to –"

(Deuce hasn't really been around any other monsters aside from his mother, so he's not as adept with ghouls as some normie gossip magazine might have you believe.)

"I'll stay." Cleo says. "But only for an hour or so. I have to get home. The Normie's can't have their new Victor running off now, can they?" Cleo's voice is sad.

"You could try. I'd protect you." Deuce mumbles.

"I can save myself, but thanks for offering." Cleo gives him a small smile. "I'm Cleo, by the way."

"Cleo," Deuce repeats, and Cleo can sense that she might like this boy a whole lot more than she had planned.

* * *

Medusa is far from shocked when her son is reaped.

The Normies forced her back into darkness, into dank caves with little sunlight, so of course they want her son dead. They know it would cause her the most pain.

She also understands that his fate is partly due of his relationship with Cleo. The President doesn't like different species of monster mixing together.

She can't blame Cleo, though. She has made Deuce so happy these past two years.

She glances up at the stage, at the golden thrones The Normies gift District One as some pathetic display of gratitude for their services. Cleo is gripping the arm rests on the throne so hard her knuckles are white.

Cleo looks as though she wants to scream, but she keeps her face in check for the cameras.

Medusa hopes that Zeus will someday wipe every mortal off the face of the earth.

* * *

When Medusa comes to say goodbye, he hugs her.

This is not goodbye, she reassures herself, he will make sure of it.

"Give them hell for me." Medusa tells him as his tears fall into her shirt. Her voice is soft but resolute. She can feel tears pricking at her own eyes, but she holds them back, somehow.

She can't let her son to see how weak she really is.

"I promise." He gets out through his sobs.

"Mom, if I don't –" He starts.

"Don't even go there –" Medusa warns.

"You gotta look out for Cleo, okay?" Deuce begs. "Swear to me, on the River Styx."

"I swear it." Medusa can hear the heavy footsteps of the peacekeepers heading their way. "Deuce, I love you so much. I pray that Athene will protect you as she did me."

"I love you too, Mom." Deuce cries, and then the Peacekeeper's crash through the door and drag Medusa away.

* * *

Cleo doesn't want let him go, not like this, never like this, and it's all her fault and if she hadn't met him then this wouldn't be happening and he would be safe, safe and far away from her.

Cleo has far more than two hours to say goodbye to Deuce, but she wishes she had forever.

* * *

Viperine is both Deuce's stylist and his cousin.

This is a plus because at least she sort of knows what he likes to wear.

Then again, he has not seen her for years.

She's been stuck working for this vampire, Elissabat.

He can tell Viperine is in love with her, because Elissabat is literally all she talks about.

It's sweet, he thinks, and he can certainly relate to being in love with a queen.

* * *

"And how is the queen of my heart doing this morning?" Deuce asks, handing her a bread roll and a coffee.

"Don't flirt with me. It'll only make it harder if you end up dead." Cleo looks as though she hasn't slept a wink.

"If? You sure got a lotta faith in me, Cleo."

"Why shouldn't I? We both know you're going to win."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Trust me. No matter what the world throws our way, we will always find a way back to each-other." Cleo speaks with such wisdom and power.

Deuce thinks he could listen to her talk for hours on end and never tire of it.

He may only have a few days left to listen to her, no matter how much he wants to deny it.

So, he sits and he listens and he tries not of think of how long it may take for his Mother to happy again if he doesn't make it out.

* * *

As the glass closes around him, Viperine reminds him to tell his Mother she says hi.

It's nowhere near good advice, but he's got more important things to worry about.

* * *

Cleo has to force herself to watch his games. She can't not watch it, she has to make sure he lives she has to, but there are sixteen dead on the first day, and ten statues lying in a field.

Deuce once always told her it would wear off in a few hours, and she knows that when it does, they will come after him. They might even form an alliance.

(She wants to believe he can survive but all it would take is a look at a knife blade and he will be gone.)

This is the first of many time she prays to Athene to help him.

She knows that the Normies call her mad for believing in such nonsense.

But she doesn't care.

She can't loose him too.

* * *

He survives, somehow, and Cleo burns meat on her upon fire and let's it travel up the chimney into the sky.

(She hopes Athene likes steak.)

* * *

Deuce wakes up and he's still dressed in what he wore in the Arena.

He stumbles to his door, he is confused and frightened and there are machine loudly beeping around him.  
Cleo runs into his arms and he feels safe.

"Oh my gosh! You two are dating!" A nurse exclaims excitedly. "I knew it! This is adorable! I have to tell all my friends!"

"What just happened?" Deuce asks, and his head is wrapped in bandages, the snakes subdued.

"I think we just created a fanbase." Cleo's eyebrows knit together.

"It's too early for this." Deuce mutters.

"It's noon." Cleo tells him.

"I know," Deuce responds dryly. "Still too early for this."

Cleo giggles and gods, he has missed her.

* * *

The President knows of their love, but he can do nothing.

The mortals, his subjects, adore Cleo and Deuce. They have their faces on posters and t-shirts and badges.

If he were to do anything to either of them, he would face risking serious retaliation.

Medusa allows herself to smile for the first time in weeks.

* * *

"So, what are we crying about this week?" Deuce asks.

Viperine's got him a yellow tuxedo and it is not a good colour on him.

"Life. The fact that I will never be able to gaze upon your emerald orbs. How this contributes to my lacklustre fashion sense." Cleo reminds him, irritated.

"Great," Deuce says. "How about the fact that we can't get married?"

Cleo sits up. "Wait, you want to marry–"

It's at that moment that the two of them are shoved on stage.

Deuce grips her hand in answer and Cleo beams.

* * *

"Look, they're holding hands. I want them dead." The President declares.

Valentine puts on his sunglasses and nods. "That girl don't know what kinda trouble she just got in. Cupid!"

Cupid appears before them. "Who is it you desire?"

"Darlin' have you seen me? I could get any girl I want. No, I want something different from you." Valentine points to the picture of Cleo and Deuce. "Split them up. I don't care how long it takes, or how many of your precious arrows you gotta waste, just get it done!"

"You have my money?" Cupid asks expectantly.

"You gotta get the job done first," Valentine drawls. "Or else she dies."

"Fine," Cupid spits. "I'll do it."

"Good choice." Valentine smirks and it makes Cupid's skin crawl.


	2. the spark

The morning that Frankie leaves for her Victory Tour, the train platform is all but empty.

Her parents are there to say goodbye with much fewer tears - only one victor ever died on her tour, she reminds herself, and security has gotten much better since then - to wave her off. There are a few cameras, of course, but not nearly as many as she had anticipated. Perhaps it's for the best - surely, no one wants to see Frankenstein and his bride side by side in high definition - best but Frankie isn't sure.

Sparky is already on the train, looking as creepy as usual (and not in a good way). He sits at the dining room table, staring intensely at his butter knife.

"Uh…hey Sparky, how've you been?" Frankie asks, as she sits down across from him. It's the polite thing to do, and Frankie likes to be polite. She doesn't really expect to hear an answer.

"I'm glad you asked, Franchesca Stein," Sparky sits up in his chair, clutches the arms. Her name is Frankie, it was never Franchesca, but she doesn't bother correcting him. She is tired. "You see, for weeks now I have been attempting to build a family. I had to harvest loads of guts and organs. It was surprisingly easier than you might think." He laughs, snaps his fingers, and Frankie is starkly reminded of why she tries to have as little interaction with this man as possible. "Let me tell you, humans don't give a shit about dead monsters, let alone ones with missing organs or unmarked graves. Just gives them less work to do."

Frankie had been hearing loud noises coming from his house for weeks, but she never dared to investigate and warned her family not to either. He must know about the hidden cameras, the microphones surrounding them, and yet he keeps talking.

"And soon, I had finally finished constructing it, I was so happy. It was giant, and I painted it blue. I am a man of science, not art, but I must admit it looked quite alright. I even gave it a face and everything. But, it didn't work. The damn thing tried to blow up my whole laboratory, and so, I had to kill it. I'm a little bit rusty in that department." Sparky picks up his fork, examines the points carefully.

"Shocking." Frankie says, because she's just three months old and has no idea what else she is supposed to say, or if there is anything she could say. Mostly, she hates that he called his creation an it. The creature must have had feelings, like she does. She dreads to think of what he might do to her, to monsters like her, if he ever got the chance.

She thinks of the creatures last moments, looking into its creator's eyes, desperate. Suddenly, she feels electricity run through her skin, and somehow, she forces herself not to shock him to death where he sits. Clawdeen told her that he is useful, after all, and Frankie trusts Clawdeen. She feels as though someone has glued her feet to the floor. She can't move.

Sparky nods, solemnly. "You know, my games lasted eighteen weeks. One of the longest in history. I only killed three people and I had never felt more alive." He turns to her, clutches the fork in his hand.

She wonders if anyone has ever asked him about his life and if that's why he won't shut up.

Sparky stabs the fork into the table. "The rest of them killed each-other. At least, I seem to recall that they did. I knew that I could have been killed at any second, but I wasn't. I don't know if they just couldn't find me or if it was because I am a human that got exiled for inhumane science experiments and the monsters didn't think I would last very long. Fools." Sparky stands up, and there is rage in his eyes that makes Frankie want to run as far away from his as possible. "As though I, the scientist who re-animated the dead, could ever be a weakling!"

"Uh, Sparky -" True, interrupting Sparky's rant is definitely isn't one of Frankie's better ideas, but she has to leave and her mother told her that to be polite she has to tell him she is doing so, instead of just walking out.

"Now, now, Frankie, call me Victor. I have told you my name and so now you must use it." He removes the fork from the table, moves his plate to cover the dent. It's as if he expects her to pretend nothing happened.

'You were human once,' Frankie thinks, but keeps smiling, nods at him. 'Now, you are something worse.'

Frankie despises the way he says her name like a curse. "Okay then, Victor, I think I'm going to go to my quarters for a while. Please, tell my prep team to wake me up when they need me."

When she comes back for dinner, Victor is missing a finger.

/

As the sun rises over District Four, Lagoona looks out over the ocean.

She can see the boats hovering about in seemingly endless waters of District Four, and just a tiny glimpse of the cameras strapped to the bottom. This is how the humans keep track of them, and to this day, it is the only form of monitoring that both freshwater and seawater monsters know of.

Most don't know about the compulsory tracking devices surgically implanted into their vertebrates at birth.

Lagoona also knows that they cannot be removed, and she can't tell any of them without risking both her life and lives of her family.

"Humans don't like monsters who don't know their place," Her father had told her, once. He hasn't been seen in years.

The last time Lagoona heard from Sirena she was still working long hours collecting fish at the bottom of the ocean. That was four years ago.

And Gil -

She doesn't like thinking about Gil, but sometimes she can't stop herself. He should be here, now. She tries to think of what he would do. Would he be holding her hand? Try to soothe her by telling her not to be so nervous, that she would be fine, that the whole thing would be over in less than an hour?

But he isn't, he never will be, and it's all her fault.

/

Lagoona is fourteen when she meets Gil.

He has nice eyes - really blue, like the colour of the waters so deep that humans will never know it - and he hates the ocean. His parents are fishermen, and when she saves him from death, he tells her golden hair looks like a halo in the sun, that she's an angel.

(She laughs in his face. She's the furthest thing from an angel, but he doesn't know that yet.)

His parents despise her. Lagoona knows they do not care if she saved his life or not. She is a saltwater freak and she will never be worthy of their son.

"Why couldn't you have let that nice Lorna girl rescue my son?!" His mother fumes after she throws a plate at Lagoona's head. She ducks and the plate shatters into a million pieces. Lagoona picks up the shards with her hands, cutting them.

Lagoona doesn't bother trying to explain that during the incident in question, Lorna had been off with her own boyfriend, Finn. There is no reasoning with Gil's 's learned that the hard way. His father is less subtle. He only decapitates sea creatures in front of her. The knives are long and sharp but at least their deaths are quick.

It doesn't matter. Gil's parents want her gone from his life. Forever. She doesn't care. They will have to catch her first. She's fast. Faster than a speeding fisherman's hook, faster than a bullet, faster than lightning. At least, she likes to think so.

When she is Reaped the night after Gil brings up the idea of marrying, she wonders if his parents somehow bribed their attendant. She wouldn't put it past them.

/

On the hovercraft to the Arena, she and her district partner are the only ones that do not get injected with a tracker. She isn't sure if she should laugh, or cry. Or both.

The humans seem to believe that the fresh-water monsters are not so loyal to never want to disobey them, that the salt-water monsters are too stupid to even try. How insulting.

/

She only wins her games because she's the strongest swimmer, and when she returns Gil's parent seem to hate her even more, somehow.

/

She comes home and tells Gil about the trackers, because he is the only one who talks to her, nowadays.

She desperately wants to tell Sirena, too, but Sirena is stuck at the bottom of the ocean, working overtime to feed her family. Twelve hour shifts, seven days a week. The humans must really want fish this time of year. Lagoona wonders if some human wants to make a fish cake for a wedding.

(Sirena loves her so much. Lagoona misses her more than words can say.)

So, Gil wants to check to see if he has a tracker too – he is no fool, he knows what the humans do to monsters like him, the ones who get too close to victors – and if there is, he wants her to remove the it, so they can run away together, off into the sunset or something.

They climb to the top of a cliff and pray to Poseidon that no-one sees them.

Gil gives her a knife he stole from his father – he has so many, he probably won't even notice that it's missing – and it feels heavy in Lagoona's hand.

"Gil, this is really gonna hurt. I'm not even a doctor. Are you sure you –"

"You know as well as I do that there are no doctors we can trust with this information. Just get it over with, Lagoona. Please." Gil shuts his eyes and she wishes she could give him her hand to hold.

She does find the tracking device. It's tiny and silver and there is a flashing red light glaring up at her. "I wonder what that means –"

"Who cares!" Gil hisses, he chews on his lip until it bleeds to stop himself from crying. "Just take it out."

The red light is blinking faster and it's making a horrible noise and then she realises –

"It's a bomb!" Gil gasps and grabs her hand. "Lagoona, you have to run! Get out of here!"

Lagoona's eyes widen in horror. "Gil no! I can't – I can't leave you to –"

"Lagoona, don't worry about me. You said it yourself, Poseidon will look after me. I will see you again. Someday." He lets go of her hand, and runs towards the edge of the cliff.

"Gil!" She screams. "Wait, please!"

The bomb explodes before he even has the chance to jump.

Suddenly, there is ash in her eyes and her lungs and her mouth and she is covered in something, it stains her clothes and in her hair.

It's Gil's blood and his skin and he shattered glass that protected his brain.

'His body,' she thinks, 'where is his body?'

She can't see any remains, only the infinite sea below her.

Gil had loved her more than anyone and all it had brought him was an unmarked grave at the bottom of the ocean he hated so much. She wipes the ash from her eyes and sobs.

/

"Gil?" Lagoona gasps.

"No, I'm sorry," Lagoona blinks and a giggling girl is standing before. "I'm Frankie! It's lovely to meet you!"

Frankie holds out her hand, her skin is green like the leaves in a forest in summertime.

(There was a forest in Lagoona's games. It was large and stretched as far as she could see. Little water. Only the harsh sun, until the flooding. Lagoona fought her way through, and she does not remember how. The harsh sun beating down on her skin, threading to dehydrate her at any moment. She thought she was dreaming when the flood swept her away.)

"Oh sorry, I thought you were – never mind," Lagoona shakes her hand. "I'm Lagoona."

Lagoona thinks that Gil would have liked Frankie. She has a pretty smile and one eye is the colour of the sky and the other is the colour of seaweed.

Lagoona decides to like her even more because Gil can't.

They only serve sushi at Frankie's party. Lagoona knows this is meant to intimidate her, but she doesn't care. She gorges herself on the stuff and makes sure the camera records every second of it.

"But, Miss Blue, don't you think eating sushi is rather crass?"

"No! I love sushi! It's my favourite food."

The interviewer looks as though he is about to be sick. Lagoona just smiles prettily into the camera.

Let the humans see what a monster she can be.

/

Frankie decides that she likes Lagoona. Lagoona has nice hands, small and as blue as the ocean, her hair is the colour of sunlight reflecting off the waves. Frankie likes her because Lagoona's hands are as cold as her own.

The first time Lagoona had laid eyes on her, she'd gripped her hands so tightly and called her Gil and then Lagoona had leaned in, as though she were about to kiss her, but the moment had been interrupted by Victor.

(She still hates calling him that, but if she goes back to calling him Sparky, she worries what he might do.)

She hopes the rest of the districts will have such a nice welcome.

/

District Three has a lot of traffic, which makes sense, considering the entire populous is made up of zombies who are somehow slower when driving than they are walking. But, Ghoulia has a red scooter that she spent twelve months wages on, so it's not as big of an issue for her.

She likes the scooter a lot. It helps her get to work on time, lets her get some time alone.

(It reminds her that she used to be human. She forgets that, sometimes.)

Today is the day that the new Victor, Frankie Stein, comes to town. To be honest, Ghoulia is less excited to meet her, and more excited for the food. Ghoulia's house is small and when humans walk in they feel a chill run down their spines. She hasn't quite figured out why but a small part of her takes satisfaction in that, in making them feel even a little unsafe.

"Robecca? Where are you?"

"I'm in here," Robecca whispers.

Ghoulia wishes Robecca would let herself go outside, let herself be happy. She knows that Robecca won't, though. The Peacekeepers who broke Robecca would find her and destroy her again, and then they would destroy Ghoulia, too.

Ghoulia can't allow that to happen to them. She won't.

Robecca is too good for her, her only friend in this miserable world.

/

Robecca's father has been missing for years, and she suspects that the Peacekeepers must have killed him. Robecca never saw a body, and some small part of her still hopes that he will return to her, with his warm smile and booming laugh.

Maybe he will, if she just hopes enough.

Robecca spends time reading the few fiction books Ghoulia has managed to scavenge. There is one particular book about a vampire slayer that Robecca adores.

(The first time she has raved to Ghoulia about it, Ghoulia had smiled so wide it could barely fit her face.

Ah, I remember Buffy! It was my favourite television show before… And then the smile had fallen from Ghoulia's face, and she became very quiet.)

Sometimes, Robecca will come across a particularly interesting passage and read it to Ghoulia. The sun sets far too soon, and Ghoulia makes herself stand.

"I have to go and meet the new victor. I'll be back around midnight. I hope."

"Can you bring back some cake?"

"I always do."

Robecca can't actually eat it, but she loves the smell, so she watches the candle go out as Ghoulia shuts the door.

/

The party is exactly as she expects. Flickering lights, fancy dresses, and enough food to keep the entirety of their poorest citizens going for a year. Ghoulia has so far spent the majority of her time at the buffet table, subtly sneaking food into her pockets, her handbag, any place she can find.

Frankie seems alright, though Ghoulia hasn't actually spoken to her yet. She's been too busy avoiding eye contact with the newest victor. She's surrounded by others, like a fly caught in a spider's web. Besides, it didn't look like Frankie spoke zombie, and it's just so awkward trying to speak to people who didn't understand her.

Someone taps her on the shoulder and she realises she hasn't even been paying attention. "Hi, I'm Frankie. You're Ghoulia, right?"

"Yes."

Frankie grins. "Oh, that's great! I love your style - so geek chic!"

Ghoulia smiles. "Thank you."

Frankie lends her a hand - literally - and by the time Ghoulia leaves, she's gathered enough food to last her a year.

/

Ghoulia doesn't talk much, and Frankie wonders why she shoves so much food in her purse.

Surely, she would have enough to eat - she is a victor, after all.

But, Frankie doesn't dare ask, not now, surrounded by cameras and normies and Victor.

Ghoulia seems to sense how uncomfortable Victor makes her. When he asks her if she wants to dance, Ghoulia cuts in. Frankie didn't think it was because Ghoulia thought she couldn't find him off, but because she was being a good friend.

Friend? She's known Ghoulia for less than a day, and she is already calling her one.

Frankie supposes that when you're a victor, you take as many friends as you can get.

/

District Two's train station is at the base of one of the mountains and she feels like she'll freeze to death. She'd packed the only jacket she owns, but she may as well be wearing nothing for all the good it does her.

"Frankie, you are here!"

Frankie turns, she's sure she would recognise that voice anywhere. Abbey's hair is in side ponytail, a hood covering most of her face. If Frankie didn't know Abbey, this probably would have scared her. But it's Abbey and Abbey would never hurt, so she is not afraid.

"Hey Abbey!" Frankie smiles and wraps the other girl in a tight hug.

"You are cold." Abbey observes aloud. "Here, take jacket."

"We'll be inside soon, won't we? I'll be fine, honest." Frankie tries to protest.

"No sense. You are cold, but I am not cold ever. It is in my blood. Take my jacket."

Abbey wraps the jacket around Frankie. It is surprisingly warm. Abbey's clothes are always so nice, Frankie thinks, and her hair is so lovely, no matter how she wears it. Frankie wants to spend as much time with Abbey as possible.

/

Even through the make up, Abbey can tell that Frankie hasn't been sleeping. It worries her more than she'll ever admit. She likes Frankie more than she'll ever admit.

They've somehow escaped from the party and are sitting together, alone, behind a tree in a park. The snow has melted so fast Frankie wonders if the humans can control the weather here or if by some mistake of godly intervention the nights are much warmer than the days. This might be the only time that Abbey is grateful for this.

Frankie yawns. "Oh, sorry. Didn't get much sleep last night."

"You have nightmare, too?" Abbey blurts out.

Frankie sighs. "Yeah. Every night. Except when I was –"

"What is it?" Abbey asks.

"When I was with you I felt - I don't know - more peaceful. I still had the nightmares, but I was okay once I knew you were there." Frankie beams. "I guess we're a good match."

Abbey feels herself blush. "Yes, I think we are."

"Abbey, I like you a lot, you know." Frankie says it as though she is confessing some scandalous secret. "When I look at you sparks start flying. Well, sparks literally do start flying because hey, electric girl over here! But still - I feel them a lot more around you."

"That is good thing, no?" Abbey observes, shyly.

(Abbey is never shy. Ever. Frankie is just so radiant, like the sun that Abbey will only see if she's lucky.)

"I think so."Frankie says, softly.

"Frankie?" Abbey whispers.

"Yeah?" Frankie asks.

"I like you very much, too." Abbey admits.

Frankie kisses her and Abbey melts.

That's how the humans find them in the morning. Frankie is resting her head on Abbey's shoulder. They take pictures before Abbey can stop them, print them in one the human's most popular gossip magazines.

One of the headlines reads: Abbey and Frankie: Just Gal Being Pals?

They have to laugh at that.

/

"What were they thinking?!" Cleo yells, slamming the gossip magazine down on their kitchen table.

"I don't know, but whoever wrote that article clearly doesn't understand the differences between friendship and romance." Deuce jokes.

"This isn't funny, Deuce." Cleo snaps and drops her head in her hands.

"I know, but what can we do about it? The damage is done." Deuce puts a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"But you know what the Normies will do to them! The president –" Cleo breathes.

"If it wasn't Abbey, they would have found another weakness. You know they would have." Deuce assures her. "Besides, Cleo, have you met Abbey? He'd have to kill her to even get near Frankie, and you know how strong that ghoul is!"

"Yeah. I guess you're right. But just because you're right doesn't mean I won't give them hell for being so reckless." Cleo declares.

"I'd expect nothing less," Deuce says, softly.

/

Frankie would like to says she remembers everything about the victory tour, but in truth, she doesn't.

After Abbey, the rest of the victory tour goes by in a blur.

/

In District One, she gets screamed at by Cleo, and Deuce watches awkwardly behind her.

Frankie doesn't really mind that much.

It shows Cleo cares about her, at least.

/

In District Six, she gets flowers that smell like oil and half-hearted applause.

/

In District Seven, she is greeted by Clawdeen's sharp smile.

"I think I'm in love," Clawdeen admits, one night. There is no moon in the sky and Clawdeen can't sleep.

"Really? Tell me everything!" Frankie grins.

Clawdeen breaks into a smile. "Well, her name is Dracualara and she's just so drop dead - I mean, beautiful. I mean, I swear my heart skips a beat when she's around me. She was my best friend from before I entered The Games. She's a vampire, you know, and vampires and werewolves have been feuding for thousands of years. I love her though, and she loves me. That's all that matters."

"She sounds wonderful. Am I going to get to meet her?"

"No, sorry. She can't come out in the sunlight and she's trying out keep of the normie's way. They hate vampires more than werewolves do - and that's saying a lot. So they'll try and kill her, and if they so much as lay one finger on her head I will kill them all, and then where would we be?"

"In a room with a lot of dead normies?" Frankie suggests.

"Exactly. I wish you could meet her though. I think you two would get along." Clawdeen sighs, wistfully. "Speaking of love lives, I hear you and Abbey finally woke up and realised you fancied each-other."

Frankie blushes. "Yeah — we did. Were we that obvious?"

Clawdeen laughs. "Frankie, we all had bets on when you'd get together. I won, by the way, because I'm awesome and possibly psychic."

"I know!" Frankie laughs, too.

/

The day Frankie leaves, Clawdeen is sitting in her living room.

She is holding Draculaura's hand, and they are watching some terrible normie reality tv show Humanity's Next Top Model, when she thinks she sees the painting of the president glaring at them. The painting is the standard issue, and every monster must have one, or they will face a dire consequences.

Clawdeen decides to ignore it. She's probably just being paranoid.

(Later, she will curse herself for not clawing the painting to ribbons right then and there.)

/

In District Eight, Frankie is greeted by a woman who spits green flames and a red-haired skeleton and their obviously intertwined hands.

"I'm Jinafire, and this is Skelita. Welcome to District Eight." Jinafire says.

Frankie thinks that it's not only her and Abbey, or Cleo and Deuce, that are breaking the president's laws by being together.

She is glad.

/

The room she is given in District Nine smells like freshly baked bread.

They don't grow flowers here, and because there was no time to order flowers, a timid little girl hands her a bouquet of wheat, tied with a green ribbon.

Frankie smiles. "This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever given me."

The crowd applauds wildly as she makes her way off stage. Frankie keeps the wheat in a vase on her nightstand for a week, but they soon rot away. She wears the ribbon in her hair, instead.

/

District Ten has fields as far as Frankie can see.

Until now, Frankie had only glimpsed at farm animals in pictures, so when she is told she will be staying at a farm for the duration of her visit, she has to restrain herself to keep from jumping for joy.

It turns out, cows are get very angry and very loud if you accidentally electrocute them. They attack in packs. Do not accidentally electrocute cows.

Do not put dogs and chickens together. The dog will try and grab the cockerel's tail and the cockerel will be angry. This will not end well for anyone.

The dogs favourite place to sleep is at the bottom of the stairs. Do not even try to move the dog, no matter how much you need to get a glass of water. The dog will growl at you.

Despite this, Frankie still has a blast staying at the farm. She makes a lot of mistakes but her host family don't seem to mind.

(She knows this is because she did not kill their children. She knows this because their children were not reaped, they are alive and well. She is glad the humans are not that cruel, though she wouldn't put it past them.)

/

Frankie meets Venus McFlytrap in District Eleven.

Venus is nice enough, she supposes, but she is is sickly looking Frankie worries for her health.

"The sun hasn't come out for a while," Venus explains, collapsing into a chair. "When that happens I get really...weak."

Venus's girlfriend, Batsy flies into the room and ushers Frankie out.

Batsy seems to know what she's doing. She will take care of her, Frankie assumes.

She buys an artificial sun lamp with some of her winnings and gifts it to Venus anyway.

/

District Twelve is run down and covered in ash.

It is here that Frankie meets Catty Noir, the only living female victor in Twelve, now using her talent for money.

She is the entertainment at her party and her voice is incredible. Frankie thinks that if Catty had been alive before the Normies took over, she would be the biggest star music had ever seen.

"This one goes out to all the humans. Love you guys!" Catty smiles but Frankie can recognise a fake smile any day. It makes Frankie want to cry.

/

The human capital is just as bright as ever. It is also just as awful, but that's not surprising. Victor tries to talk to her, get her to socialise more with the humans, but she doesn't.

All the normies will do is question her about her love life, something that she is most definitely not willing to talk about with them.

She sits in the corner and tries to look as though she is having fun.

/

Cleo and Deuce are sitting on their sofa when they wait for the president announce the Quarter Quell. Cleo has an arm wrapped over Deuce' s shoulder, dreading whatever the miserable twist will be.

Deuce knows they can handle it, right?

/

Clawdeen and Draculaura are sitting on the coffee table when they wait for the news.

Clawdeen grips Draculaura's hand as though it is a lifejacket and she is a drowning sailor. She grinds her teeth and waits.

/

Frankie is thinking about Abbey as she waits for the president to announce this year's Quarter Quell.

She is wondering how Abbey is. They've spoken on the phone a few times, but not nearly as many times as she would have liked.

Frankie curls her nails into her palms and tries to be strong.

/

Abbey is building an ice sculpture as she waits for the declaration of the Quarter Quell. She thinks it looks a lot like Frankie. This is not intentional.

She is going to put it in the fridge after the announcement.

/

"This year, to show that even the strongest rebels could not protect the ones they love, the tributes will be selected from the victor's friends, family, and even lovers."

The applause is thunderous.

/

Cleo and Deuce are sob and hold each-other. Try and pretend that they will be okay, that they have survived worse than this.

(They are lying.)

/

Clawdeen is openly weeping on Draculaura's shoulder and this is the most vulnerable state that Draculaura has ever seen her.

Draculaura knows exactly who is going into the games, and it won't be Howleen.

No, the Normies will pick her, because Clawdeen loves her and therefore she cannot be one-hundred percent loyal to them and the humans cannot stand it.

Draculaura remembers her mother. Will she see her again soon?

/

Frankie is frozen in her seat.

She can't move, can't breathe, can't —

Her mother and father are crying. They can't believe the humans would be so cruel. Well, maybe they did believe it, but they still had some small hope that maybe, just maybe—

/

Abbey feels her blood run hot. She kicks her tv in and it the screen smashes. She knows this will not help anyone, but she just needs to hit something.

She just wishes Frankie were here. But she's hundreds of miles away, and Abbey is alone.

She cries and wishes to turn every normie home into a frozen wasteland.

/

Lagoona is not worried. She rolls herself a joint and breathes in deep. She has no-one to worry about.

There is no one left she loves.

/

During the weeks leading up to the reaping for the Quarter Quell, the weather is dismal. It rains for the first few weeks, which somehow causes no floods, and then it becomes so hot that monsters don't dare leave their houses for fear of being roasted alive.

"Which is hotter, here or Tartarus?" Cleo asks one morning, hand flapping wildly as she fans herself.

"I'm gonna go with here." Deuce bets, as he wipes sweat off his forehead.

(If Cleo didn't know better she might have started believing that the humans had somehow figured out a way to control the weather, too.)

Cleo supposes the humans must be laughing back in their city, eating grapes on some fancy couch, eagerly awaiting the day of the reaping.

"We have to be ready. They have to be ready." Cleo declares, after a particularly ghastly nightmare involving her father's bandages and fire.

"So, we're somehow going to teach our families how to survive the arena in less than three months?" Deuce asks, though Cleo can tell he's not as sceptical as he'd like to have her think.

"Exactly." Cleo replies.

"You realise we'll have to put a sheet over my mom's head so the Peacekeepers won't see she's left her home, right?" Deuce acknowledges, his voice half playful and half concerned.

"Minor detail. We have loads of spare sheets, anyway." Cleo argues. "Despite how many times you've failed to wash them."

"Oh please, you love me," Deuce boasts.

"And don't you forget it." Cleo warns, playfully.

"Never," Deuce grins and Cleo kisses him.

/

"Cleo, you must understand that I am far too dignified to accept the help of a gorgon, much less the one you claim to love." Father drawls, clutching his staff.

"Father, you must understand that you don't know what they'll do to you if they find you defenceless -" Cleo argues, but her father flicks her wrist and Cleo holds her tongue.

'Daughter," Father booms, "any monster who values their continuing existence in this world would never stoop so low as to attack a monster of my station."

"But -" Cleo protests.

"If you are done babbling, I have other business to attend to." Father stands and walks out of the room.

Cleo knows that her family has never cared for Deuce, and it's never really bothered her. Until now.

/

When Cleo informs Nefera of their plan, she laughs coldly.

"What is it?" Cleo demands.

"Sorry, Cleo, it's only that I find it rather amusing that you and that lowlife gorgon of yours think that you can teach me the thinks that father hasn't. I can survive anything those normies throw at me." Nefera stresses.

"Are you sure?" Cleo has to try, one more time.

"Positive," Nefera says, and in a surprising display of affection, pulls Cleo in a tight hug. "But I really appreciate the thought."

/

Although Medusa accepts their offer, there is little Cleo and Deuce can teach her.

Medusa stops sparring with Cleo one morning, turns to her son and says: "Deuce, you and Cleo have to stick together, ok? Whatever happens, you have to stay together."

"Mom, what are you saying?" Deuce asks.

"I'm giving you my blessing damnit!" Medusa exclaims. "So you two have my permission to go get married, and don't you dare give me that crap about how you have to ask the father's permission because that's a human tradition, not a monster one."

"Mom, you're not -" In a split second, Deuce starts sobbing.

"Deuce, don't," Medusa cups Deuce's face in her hands and wipes away his tears. "You have to accept that I might be going."

Medusa doesn't say that she is certain she will be reaped, because the humans have wanted her dead for centuries, and this may be the only way to do it. Cleo starts crying too, for the monster who has become like a mother to her, and Medusa wraps her son and Cleo into a hug.

Together the tree of them try and savour this moment for as long as they can, where they are here, and alive for what might be the last time.

/

Abbey has a large family, the majority of whom have been trained in the fine art of murder since they were as young as four, and so it is pointless for her to try and train them all.

Instead, Abbey concentrates on how she will survive the painful weeks to come.

/

Frankie phones on a Tuesday and she sounds so tired it makes Abbey want to stow away on a train and come to visit her.

"Hey Abbey," Frankie sniffs. "Sorry it's so late. I don't even know why I'm calling you, this was stupid -"

"I do not mind, Frankie. Are you okay?" Abbey asks.

"Not really, I just wanted to hear your voice I guess. Makes me feel nice." Frankie's voice is breaking.

"I am glad, but do you want to talk about what make you sad? Do I need to fight it?" Abbey asks.

"No, I don't think you could take on the entire normie population." Abbey can hear Frankie's smile.

"Try me." Abbey dares, playfully.

Frankie lets out a tiny laugh and it warms Abbey's heart.

/

Frankie's parents tell her that they can survive on their own quite alright. They spend the weeks leading up to the reaping in their house, and spend as much time in each-other's company as possible. Frankie loves her parents so much but she must prepare herself for life without them.

/

Lagoona spends the weeks leading up to the reaping alone in her big, empty, house.

She likes it better this way.

/

"Hello District One!" The escort says cheerfully.

The audience is silent.

"Well, then, since it is the Quarter Quell, let's start off with the boys!" The escort reaches into the reaping bowl. "Deuce Gorgon!" She gasps.

"Wait!" Cleo tries to keep her voice down, but she can't stop herself. "Is this allowed?"

"Is he a friend, family member or lover of a Victor?" The escort says patronisingly. "I do believe he is!"

She should know better than to question them. She will pay for that. But she doesn't care. All she can do is watch Deuce, who looks just as shocked as Cleo is, and as the Peacekeepers shove him forward, breaking their clasped hands he is holding back tears. Cleo does not.

"And now, for the ladies!" The escort reaches her hand into the bowl and picks one out. "Medusa Gorgon!"

Medusa is stoic as the Peacekeepers begin to take her to the stage.

Then, there is a voice.

"I volunteer as tribute!"

It's Nefera.

/

Abbey's cousin is called. There is no emotion on his face as they lead him to the stage.

Abbey is sad, but she knows that it could have been much worse.

/

Frankie's parents are both called.

She can already hear the humans' cruel laughter.

This will certainly make a good show.

/

Moanica D'Kay takes the Reaping stage with a smirk. She's some Victor's sister, one who's name Ghoulia can't remember. The cameras will love her.

Of course, Slo-Mo is reaped next, but Ghoulia doesn't allow herself to cry on camera. She always knew this would happen.

It's why she broke up with him, after all.

She doesn't go to say goodbye to him. There are other zombies who can train him, and she already said her goodbyes.

She has Robecca to think of now.

/

Draculaura supposes she knew she was going to be chosen, but it doesn't stop her from crying as the Peacekeepers drag her to the stage.

Clawdeen shows no emotion on her face but Draculaura knows that her heart is breaking.

Draculaura just cries. Let them think she is weak.

She will wait for the arena to let them see how strong she is.

/

Lagoona is gazing at a butterfly when they call the name of the female tribute.

"Sirena Von Boo!"

Lagoona sits up. They can't be serious, Sirena can't be -

Amid the crowd, the Peacekeepers find her. Lagoona wants to scream.

Sirena is alive and now they are going to kill her.

/

No-one comes to say goodbye to her.

Sirena doesn't care.

She has no-one left to say goodbye too.

/

Lagoona looks as though she's fainted when Sirena enters the dining hall.

Lagoona's head is resting on her arms, her hair spilling out over the table, the chandelier above her head casting a warm glow over her.

For a moment, she looks peaceful and Sirena allows herself a small smile.

Then, Lagoona wakes up.

"So, Lagoona, how've you been?" Sirena does not meet Lagoona's eyes.

Lagoona chuckles, but there is no humour in the sound. "Really? After four years of letting me think that you, my only friend left in this miserable world, was dead and gone and now you're back and that's all you've got to say to me?" Lagoona sighs, and takes a swig of whiskey. "I'm disappointed in you, Sirena."

Sirena grits her teeth, the smile fades as quickly as it appeared. "Well, Lagoona, I was stuck at the bottom of the ocean, so forgive me if I didn't send you a text because the reception down there is terrible."

"Sucks to be you," Lagoona quips.

"But when I found out about the Quell, they dragged me up to the surface. They knew you'd hate watching me die and you know how the normies love messing with us. So, now I'm here and about to head off and die for the human's entertainment and if I have to listen to you complain about your cushy life one more time —"

"Cushy life?!" Lagoona yells, stands up. "How dare you talk like that to me! On my victory tour the only food humans gave me was sushi, and I grinned and bared it because I had you and Gil and I knew you'd be at home and missing me and so I didn't throw myself in front of train. But then, I came home and I watched Gil die and I ran down that fucking cliff covered in his blood and you know what I thought? I thought that at least I still had you! But then you went to the sea and never came back and now you're here and I'm about to lose you again and all you have to say to me is 'how've you been' and complain at me about how my life is so much better than yours. I was completely and utterly alone for four years!"

"Well so was I!" Sirena bursts out. "When you made it to the final eight in the games, the humans came to our district to do the interviews, and when they found out I was a hybrid, they killed my parents without remorse or hesitation. I watched my entire family die right before my eyes and I knew they were about to kill me as well. But they didn't, because I was such a good little slave and because the fish liked me so I could lure them into nets without the humans having to get out the diving gear. So, they kept me alive and suffering, but they weren't about to let some disgusting hybrid out into the open because then they might get the idea that they could disobey the humans with no consequences. And so they watched me around the clock. They even watched me sleep. I never got away from them, and when they brought me to land I knew I was going to be reaped, but I thought hey, at least Lagoona still loves me and now—" Sirena bites her lip."

"Of course I still love you," Lagoona protests, moving closer to Sirena.

"You sure have a funny way of showing it," Sirena breathes.

So, Lagoona kisses her instead.

/

This is quite possibly the most awkward dinner Cleo has ever been apart of. Nefera is smirking at Deuce. Deuce is staring at his untouched food to avoid Nefera's unrelenting stare. Cleo grips his hand.

She has to keep Deuce alive, no matter what the cost.

But, despite everything, Cleo loves her sister. She doesn't want to watch her die.

Cleo thinks she won't have to, thinks that she will shut her eyes tight and cover her ears until it's over, until the hovercraft has collected the body, until her father has stopped screaming, until -

Until she knows Deuce will be safe.

/

Abbey hard says anything to her cousin. He already knows everything she could ever teach him. Instead, he eats and eats and eats and the floor is covered in crumbs by the time he is done.

Abbey hopes Frankie is coping, though she isn't sure how Frankie could be

/

Frankie's parents haven't left her side and Frankie is so grateful.

They don't talk about the games, not yet. Instead they share stories about their lives, all things they never told Frankie. She can't imagine what they must be feeling, but she wants to spend as much time with them as she can. She wants them meet Abbey, before they go.

/

Draculaura is looking at her, eyes wide with something like hope, and Clawdeen wishes she'd burned that fucking painting. Draculaura hasn't let go of her hand.

Clawdeen doubts she ever plans to.

/

The train pulls into the station far too soon for Sirena's liking. She and Lagoona fell asleep on the sofa together, their limbs tangled, and Lagoona's head is resting on Sirena's bare shoulder.

"Lagoona," she whispers, "Time to wake up."

"Five more minutes," Lagoona mumbles.

Sirena smiles, sadly. "C'mon, it's time to face the mob."

Lagoona yawns and sits up. "My hair isn't all messy for once, it's nice."

"Well, I am an amazing hairstylist." Sirena jokes.

Lagoona grins, pushes herself up, stretches. The humans are staring at them through the window. Lagoona sighs. Time to face the mob indeed.

/

The President stares out the window overlooking his utopia. Or at least it would be, once the monsters were destroyed.

The President taps his fingers against his chin, thinks of all the things his Gamemakers have planned for the arena this year, thinks of the statue of the previous Head Gamemaker he keeps as a scarecrow, thinks of the beasts who killed him.

He sighs, a smirk gracing his lips.

They will never see him coming.

/

Frankie's parents do not to take well to the humans.

Frankie's not shocked. Why should her parents take well to those who are responsible for sending them and their daughter to their deaths?

Sparky, however, grows more and frustrated with every passing day, and he's somehow gotten worse than before. And that's saying something.

After a particularly gruelling day, wherein Sparky forces Frankie's parents through four hours of supposed training for the interviews Sparky growls at the trio and collapses into his chair.

"Just as useless as your daughter, I see," Sparky sighs, chuckles. "I thought I'd built you better than this, but apparently I was wrong. Mrs Frankenstein-"

Frankie's mother launches at him and grips his throat, choking him.

"Say that again," She hisses.

Frankie stands, frozen, unsure whether to cheer her on or pull them apart.  
Sparky chokes out a laugh, his face turning redder by the second.

"Go - ah- ah-ead, k-kill me, just wait and see what the Pres-i-dent'll do to you!"

"That piece of shit's already taking our lives, I don't see why we shouldn't take yours." Frankie's mother growls.

"Mom!" Frankie cries, tears rolling down her cheeks at the mere thought of the Arena. "Stop, please! You're scaring me."

Frankie's mother drops Sparky. "My name is Elizabeth."

She spits in his face and rushes to her daughter, holds her and Frankie's father close.

"We love you, Frankie," Her Father whispers. "Don't forget that, will you? No matter what you have to see, no matter what happens."

"I know, I love you too," Frankie chokes out. "I'll never forget you."

"You'll tell Cleo and Deuce's kids about us, right?" Her mother jokes and

Frankie lets out a light laugh.

"Duh," Frankie sighs, a tiny smile gracing her face.

The three move to the sofa and sit and hold each-other like how Frankie imagines a normal family would do, and watch the sunlight turn the colour of spoiled milk.

/

Slo-Mo still hasn't spoken to her.

He was never much of a talker, anyway.

/

It's the Opening Ceremonies and Deuce's snakes hiss at the restraints one of the members of his prep team he insisted they have. Deuce pats them gently, but says nothing. He can't risk anyone overhearing him daring to criticise a human, because that would surely get him killed. But first, they would kill Cleo and make him watch.

Nefera is dressed in blue and grinning widely, her teeth resemble knives glinting in the sunlight.

Nefera smiles at Deuce and Deuce freezes.

"You know, Cleo's a very sensitive gh-woman. If you want to leave her with the tools to survive, you should break it off." Nefera grips his hand, her nails digging into his skin.

"No," Deuce spits out and Nefera's eyes grow furious.

/

Nefera can't understand.

Deuce should want to spare her sister the pain of his death, right?

Nefera rolls her eyes, and digs her sharp nails into his palm. She feels like a needy child, holding his hand like this. As though he is her brother, or something.

The thought makes her laugh. As if a Gorgon who skateboards for fun could ever be considered her brother.

But Cleo insisted they at least act like friends, since hardly anyone knows about Cleo's disagreements with her family.

Except for her family, Deuce, and, of course, the President.

/

Elissabat has an old crown she keeps hidden in her attic. It should be her crown. She would be the rightful Queen of the vampires had the humans not taken their homes and their land and their lives.

She tries not to dwell on this fact too much because there is nothing she can do about it. Besides, she doubts she would make a good queen anyway. Not with all the issues that needed to fixed.

Like the werewolf massacres for instance.

She hardly ever wears the crown for otherwise the humans might begin to see her as the threat she would be if she cared enough. Any monster no matter how old, who wore any type of crown, held any type of septor, even if if the crown is made of flowers and the septor a broken tree branch, would be labelled a traitor and be publicly executed.

So, Elissabat keeps her crown locked away and the vampire's heart along with it.

The humans would destroy both if they ever found them.

Only Viperine knows the truth. Only Viperine can get into her home without kicking down the door with a battering ram. Or at least, Viperine could if she wasn't stuck in District One.

But now, for the Quarter Quell, Elissabat and Viperine have at least two weeks to spend together.

Viperine's snakes take over applying Elissabat's make-up so that the two can hold hands beneath the table. Elissabat knows that the president would not hesitate to kill Viperine if someone even gets a small hint of their true feelings for one-another.

(Elissabat doesn't like to think about how Viperine would die. Entombed in stone for eternity. Would they make her watch? Absolutely.)

But for now, Elissabat allows herself a small moment of happiness.  
It's not funny at all how something so inherently horrific could lead to Elissabat spending more time in the company of the monster she loves with all her soul.

But, Elissabat is grateful nonetheless.

/

Robecca is not the type to go outdoors but that is only because the Peacekeepers would take a mace to her circuits and leave her in the dust. She wouldn't even have time to scream. Then, they would find Ghoulia and put a bullet through her skull throwing her into the abyss, or wherever it is zombies go when they die.

Robecca does not like to think about Ghoulia and bullets. She keeps Ghoulia in a secret place at the back of her head, encased in the sunlight she has not so much as glimpsed in years.

Robecca can't remember much about the last time she saw her father.

She remembers how he used to sneak off in the middle of the night while she was charging. She never bothered to ask where and he did not tell her, which was strange. He told her everything. One morning, he hurried her inside of Ghoulia backdoor. He had kissed her forehead and told her to stay strong and then he gone.

After a week, Robecca came to the realisation that father wasn't coming home for a while. So, she had tried to turn Ghoulia's laboratory into her new home. She painted the walls same shade as her hair, as her mood.

She had liked Ghoulia from afar, since Ghoulia worked twelve hour shifts in the factories that turned the sky grey. Ghoulia made electronics for the humans and often she would come home with a vicious migraine.

"It's some new project they've got us labouring over. It looks like a giant phone. It's completely pointless but humans don't seem to listen to logic." Ghoulia sighs.

She had still smiled at Robecca anyway.

Robecca thinks her father would like Ghoulia. Her father had liked most monsters, even the unpleasant ones. He had the kind of laugh that stretched across the derelict streets, the kind of laugh that brought joy even to those who simply heard it. He was strong, too. He used to pick her up and spin her around and oh, how she'd grin.

(Sometimes, when the nights are too long and too dark and too cold, she makes a list in her head of all the good things she is doing by staying hidden, like keeping his laugh alive.)

So, she stays in the shadows and waits for him to come home.

(At some point, though, she will grow tired of waiting.)

/

It's one of the only days she allows herself reprieve from the laboratory. The blinds are closed but Robecca still curls up on the sofa and does not even allow the top of head to be viewable from the window.

Ghoulia's hand is resting on top of hers. Robecca feels her circuits heating up.

/

They are watching the scores of the tributes and Ghoulia is terrified. She hasn't felt this scared since Slow-Mo's father broke down her front door, his horrid teeth bared like a wolf's.

She hasn't heard from Cleo in days. She is somewhat grateful, because she knows Cleo will have spent the time with Deuce and her sister. Cleo doesn't know how to say goodbye. She never has.

Ghoulia hears the sound of bullets firing, feels glass cut across her face. She sits up, quick as a flash and hurries Robecca back into her sanctuary. Robecca brushes her hand over Ghoulia cheek.

"Run!" Ghoulia screams and Robecca does.

She grabs the only weapons she has: a shotgun. The one Slo-Mo left for her. She presses her finger on the trigger and waits.

Then -

Ghoulia hears the crackling of the radio.

She hears a warning to her fellow dead monsters. Somehow, these few have taken over communications in the poorer section of this Districts. They say the waves from the new project is taking over their minds.

They call for the end of the humans.

The transmission fades as out as quickly as it came. Ghoulia gasps.

Just like that, District Three begins to rise up and fight back.

/

Robecca got a brief glance at the television before she was rushed out.

Deuce and Nefera scored a nine. Abbey's cousin scored a five. Sirena got a six. Both of Frankie's parents scored an eleven.

It seems the humans know who they want to pick off first. It seems they hate Frankie most of all. Robecca puts on her headphones and blasts Catty Noir until she drowns out the screaming.

/

It's the night of the interviews and Clawdia Wolf is pacing back and forth, restless.

She loves her sister and she cares about Draculaura as much as the rest of the family, and this is Draculaura's last chance to gain at least pitiful sponsorship. She might even persuade a few wealthier gamblers, considering she somehow pulled a six. Still, Clawdia has never seen Draculaura outside of their family barbeques, so she has no idea how the tiny girl will act under pressure.

They have regular advert breaks between the interviews — hey, the interviewer has to pay for his ridiculous suits somehow — and Clawdia tunes out almost all of them.

Then, she watches a black and white advert where a vampire with blood red lips speaks of how good life is under normie rule. These statements — they not facts, they are far from the truth — are complete with pointless shots of random zombies forcing smiles as they work in the factories, a bizarre cameo of Ramses de Nile, and a poltergeist with shocking green hair wrapped in chains while a terrifying ghost in a red hood proclaims him a criminal and sentences him to life imprisonment.

(There is never a shot of District Seven. They live in the District the human's will never see on screen, and Clawdia is grateful they don't have cameras on them at all times, waiting for them to do something resembling happiness for their tyrants' rule.)

However, the poltergeist doesn't appear to be paying much attention to the judge, his mind elsewhere, on what Clawdia does not know.

"I think that poltergeist's in love," Howleen whispers. "Maybe he sacrificed himself. How romantic." Howleen shows a small smile.

Howleen has always longed for that kind of love. Clawdia desperately hopes she finds it, somewhere.

The red-lipped vampire has a nice enough voice, though she is clearly putting on an accent, and the voiceovers are all about how truly swell human and monster relations have been since the take over.

Bullshit, Clawdia thinks, how can any monster say this shit with a straight face?

The red-lipped vampire not only has to spout those lies, there is also a love triangle subplot for no apparent reason. Clawdia can't even tell the two (human) men apart, much less remember their names. The vampire seems equally as confused, though she picks the one with the chin at the end.

Clawdia doesn't care. What she does care about is the tiny look in the vampire's eyes in the last shot of the video.

Clawdia would recognise the look of prey anywhere. She is completely helpless. It's at that moment that Clawdia realises who this vampire is: Elissabat.

It makes sense. Elissabat only won her games because of her acting.

She fooled some of her competitors into thinking she was on their side and then she stabbed them in the back in their sleep. She tricked the larger ones into thinking she was just a twig of a girl, so that they would underestimate her, and when the time came, she tore out the veins in their necks with her teeth.

It was considered by many one of the best games since Kala's.

Clawdia sighs. Better it be Elissabat than Clawdeen.

/

Draculaura is taking her seat on the stage. Clawd watches as her legs visibly shake beneath her luminous pink miniskirt when someone breaks down their front door.

Clawdia, Clawd, their mother and father all extend their claws. Clawdia and Clawd push Howleen behind them.

"Howleen, you know what to do?" Clawd whispers.

Howleen nods. She stops for a second and Clawd thinks she might say "I love you" or "Stay safe" but there is no time. She runs up the stairs.

Clawdia creeps ahead of the pack, Clawd and their parents following close behind them. They turn to the splintered hunk of wood that used to their front door and Clawd's heart drops into his shoes.

"Romulus?" He breathes.

As if in response, Romulus staggers towards them, clutching the bullet holes in his flesh, before he collapses, his blood dripping onto the polished tiles.

/

Romulus does not keep breathing for long but it is long enough to give Clawd brief details on what happened.

He says something about rebellion against vampires and humans, standing up for their rights. He calls it Werepride.

"We were going to take over the District, get our message out. We were gonna change to the world." Romulous sighs. "But they shot me before we could group."

Clawd thinks that, had Werepride succeeded, the humans outside the District would have exterminated all werewolves for treason. Clawd does not voice this now, though. It will not help him. Nothing will, not when the human's shot him full of silver bullets. Clawd is surprised he can even speak.

So: he just sits and listens.

Romulus grabs Clawd's hand.

"The pack is strength," Romulus choruses.

"The pack is life," Clawd recites and he's trying so hard not to cry but this is his best friend in the whole universe and there is nothing they can do to save him and—

Romulus gives his best friend a weak, toothy grin and breathes his last.

/

Despite what the (human) critics say, Pharaoh thinks that Catty Noir is the cat's meow.

(Pun absolutely intended.)

Pharaoh doesn't understand why the human's dislike her so much. He thinks its because she's a monster, and a Werecat at that, but her voice is so enchanting that Pharaoh cannot understand how they can critique her music.

Okay, so maybe Pharaoh might have a bit of a crush on her. Maybe.

What does it matter? Pharaoh will never meet her.

At least, that's what Pharaoh thinks before his mother buys him tickets to her concert in the human capitol.

He hides his bandages under a long t-shirt and his permanent face paint beneath makeup.

He doesn't care. He just wants to hear her.

/

"This one's for the humans," Catty shouts, her smile bright as ever.

She grips the microphone in her hands and waits for her cue to start singing.

It's a love song — something she knows nothing about — and she is meant to invite someone onto stage to sing with her.

The spotlight scans the crowd, and finds a dark-haired boy with the nicest eyes Catty has ever seen.

He bites his lip and crosses his arms over his chest, and then the audience starts cheering him on.

"Come on, I don't bite," Catty grins and the boy climbs onto stage with her.

"Uh, I'm not a very good singer." The boy mutters.

"So, what's your name?" Catty asks.

The boy considers the question for a second, before Catty hands him the microphone and he says "I'm Pharaoh."

In the middle of his song, she offers him her hand and spins around. The audience erupt in cheers.

"Go Pharaoh! Go Pharaoh, go!" They cheer.

Catty smiles at him and keeps on singing.

/

At the end of the song, Catty places a tentative hand on his cheek and in doing so, unknowingly wipes off his disguise. The audience gasp and then begin calling for execution.

Catty grabs his hand and together, they run.

/

Pharaoh does not know this city well, but their roofs are almost too easy to climb. They sit together and watch silently as the humans frantically search for the two of them.

When it seems that even the final stragglers have vanished, Pharaoh dares to break the silence.

"I'm Pharaoh," He says.

"I know," Catty replies. "Hey, we sounded pretty good together."

"Yeah, we did." Pharaoh's eyes flicker to the street below, one of the human's torches is burning out. "I'm so sorry I got you into this mess."

Of all things, Catty grins at him. "It was high time I took a break from show business. Humans didn't let me have much time off. They made me practice thirteen hours a day."

"Why? You're perfect." Pharaoh chuckles, lightly. "I mean, you sound perfect."

"Was that a werecat pun?" Catty giggles.

"Maybe," Pharaoh bites his lip.

They are still holding hands. Catty stands, suddenly, pulling him up with her.

"Come on," She laughs, melodic. "We have a whole city to explore." He laughs too. "Well, we'd better get started."

/

Draculaura snaps awake to the sound of shattering glass. She's a light sleeper, always has been. Her father says it's a side-effect of vampirism. Clawdeen is awake too.

Draculaura's eyes widen as she glimpses the human who has broken in. She bares her fangs and stands, bracing herself for an attack. The human notices her then, but he is not alone. His allies grab her before she can launch at their leader, decorated with large crosses that burn into her flesh so far she can almost see her own bones.

She cries out in pain and Clawdeen lunges for the human's leader. He takes out a handgun quick as a flash. He fires, and brings Draculaura's world down with a single silver bullet.

The bullet hits Clawdeen in the chest and she collapses. Draculaura screams. The assassin smiles at her in sick satisfaction. Draculaura knows that he will be paid quite handsomely for this. So, she sinks her fangs into the veins in his neck before he has the chance to do much else.

His allies have fled. Cowards.

Draculaura is sobbing and then —

Clawdeen is beside her again. Clawdeen is beside her again. Clawdeen is alive again.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. I'm okay," Clawdeen whispers. "I'm here. We're safe."

'This is not real,' Draculaura thinks, 'Clawdeen is not real. This is just some sick human trick.'

"H-how are you here?!" Draculaura can't breathe because Clawdeen is dead and she couldn't save her and —

That's when Clawdeen shows her the bullet-proof vest. "What do you think our lives are? Some shitty normie tv show?" Clawdeen asks, jokingly.

Draculaura cracks a smile for just a second, then remembers that if she survives whatever the humans have planned, she'll watch Clawdeen wither away in three-hundred years, anyway.

"Don't you dare scare me like that again," Draculaura warns.

Then, Draculaura does nothing but hold Clawdeen close as they watch the assassin's blood stains the carpet.

/

There is a flower the same shade of the assassins blood sitting in the President's front pocket.

Clawdeen does not know if he uses this as an intimidation tactic or if it's just for the aesthetic. The flower almost seems to move of it's own accord. Clawdeen doesn't know what to make of that, but it would not be uncommon for humans to take monsters as their pets.

"You can be assured that if we catch those who did this they will be punished." The President states.

'If you catch them?' Clawdeen thinks, angrily. 'You're the one who hired them!'

Clawdeen's razor sharp nails dig into the wood at the back of her chair. She feels like a child again, before the monthly killing sprees. It's taking everything she has not to launch herself at him and kill him where he sits. Even his very stare seems to echo smugness.

"Thank you, sir." Clawdeen mutters. She does not meet his eyes.

The President sighs. "You are dismissed."

Clawdeen nods and leaves the room as quietly as she can.

/

The human's have done nothing to clean up the blood. They have only taken one of the training room matts and placed it haphazardly over the mess. Clawdeen knows they will probably torch the place once Draculaura is no longer here, just to spite her.

She cannot quite bring herself to even think about how she will handle herself once that happens. Clawdeen pushes the thought to somewhere deep beneath the earth and goes to find Draculaura.

/

"Hey good lookin!" Someone shouts, causing Clawdeen's blood to run cold.

She is not in the mood to be hit of by some drunk human's who only want bragging rights. Clawdeen hisses, whirling around at the speed of light and grabbing the person by his throat, choking him.

"Feisty one ain't ya?" The guy even has the audacity to wink at her.

"Who are you?" Clawdeen demands.

"They call me Valentine, but you can call me you —"

"You!" Draculaura cries out in horror and begins racing towards Clawdeen.

It's at that moment that Cupid's arrow finds it's target in Draculaura's neck. Draculaura's eyes turn a sickly shade of pink.

"Clawdeen," She sighs happily. "Oh, how I have missed you!"

Draculaura actually starts skipping of all things, barrelling Clawdeen over.

Clawdeen's breath is knocked out of her.

"Cupid!" Valentine spits out. "Let's go!"

Clawdeen looks up to see a flash of pale pink hair fly past her. Clawdeen couldn't imagine why someone as seemingly nice as Cupid would want to do with someone as awful as Valentine.

Clawdeen will have plenty of time to dwell on this later, though.

Now, she just wants to spend every last moment, for the rest of her life with Draculaura.

/

Valentine doesn't care much for the mangy werewolf girl or her weak vampire lover. He can break them as easily as china.

He has bigger fish to fry.

Or rather, bandages to unravel.

/

When they come for Abbey, it's three in the morning and the moon is red as blood.

Abbey would fight them off but they know about Frankie. They could hurt Frankie, they could kill Frankie, they would kill her and make Abbey watch.

Abbey is so tired of hurting monsters, of hurting anyone and everyone she's ever known. She really is a monster in every sense of the word.

She bows her head as the guards start herding her out the door, as though she were cattle off to the slaughter house.

They shove her in a car with windows the colour of a night sky after a storm.

"Where we go?" Abbey asks. The soldier lifts his hand as if to strike her, before someone who is obviously his superiour shakes his head in a gruff manner.

The soldier sighs, reluctantly. "The President wishes to speak to you."

Abbey doesn't bother trying to ask why he wants to speak with her, for fear she will appear guilty. The drive is not nearly short enough.

If she dies, Abbey wants her last thought to be of Frankie, the one thing in this world which doesn't hurt. If she dies, she wonders if Frankie will miss her.

Probably not.

"Good evening, Miss Bominable," The President sits in his chair as though it were a throne.

"It is morning," Abbey replies, shortly. "What you want?"

In answer, the President presses a button on his television remote. Abbey is confused. She's never been good at reading faces, but the President's face is expressionless.

Then, she hears a voice — her own voice.

"I am glad, but do you want to talk about what make you sad? Do I need to fight it?"

At once, Abbey becomes rigid with terror.

"No, I don't think you could take on the entire normie population."

In this horrifying moment, she can still hear Frankie's smile. Even thinking of Frankie's sunshine smile isn't enough to calm her. Abbey's breathing becomes shallow.

"Try me."

"Well," The President asks. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

"It - it - it was joke!" Abbey protests.

The President slams his fist on the desk, making the desk shake. "You dare to joke about annihilating your saviours?"

"I did not say that!" Abbey says. If he honestly thinks she could annihilate the entire human population, then they are even weaker than she thought.

"No matter," The President clenches his jaw.

He's not going to kill her, not now He'll keep her around to watch her friends die.

No. This is a warning. That the humans are are always watching you, and if you step out of line again, we'll think of an even more horrific way for you to meet your end.

Abbey doesn't meet his eyes. "I am sorry."

"I know," The President replies and dismisses her.

He doesn't say: "You will be."

/

Nefera is not sentimental. It's only that the sunrise brings back memories she can't seem to let go of. She thinks of Toralei. Toralei and her laugh, Toralei and her grin, Toralei and her grave -

No. Nefera doesn't even know if Toralei has a grave.

Nefera sighs. She knows it's pointless to dwell on the past and yet it seems to be the only thing she can do. She thinks of how proud her father will be when the crown of the victor is placed upon her head.

/

Slo-Mo's old shot gun is still gripped in Ghoulia's hand.

She's not dared to venture out of her house.

Robecca helped her pull the glass out of her face, the blood staining Robecca's metal fingers. Robecca deserves none of this.

Not for the first time, Ghoulia wonders if she's in love with Robecca.

It's absurd. Not only is there no chance would Robecca like her back, but there's also the fact that the dead can't feel emotions. Robecca is charging, but Ghoulia stays awake and listens to the birds in the early morning light.

The dead can't sleep, either.


End file.
